Light A Light
by planet p
Summary: Halloween fic! AU: it's the simple things that hurt the most – and they're also the best things in life! Emily/Lyle


Happy Halloween, everyone!

* * *

Caught up in the excitement of the children, Emily couldn't suppress a smile. She hadn't smiled in a while and it felt good, in that moment. The children bustled about, their youthful imaginations and young hearts so very glad, so very eager. The were so excited, the soft anxiousness simmering underneath, the worry that something might go wrong, that the other kids might not like their costumes or that the candy might all be taken when they rolled up at the door, didn't even peek through.

When they'd first come here, Emily had wanted nothing more than to hide away, but tonight, she couldn't bear to crush the children's optimism. She couldn't think of herself as that cruel. Her own children were asleep, lost to sweet dreams, she hoped. They were young; it was only natural. She didn't hold it against them that they couldn't be there to offer her a reprieve from her loneliness, to offer a few words, if not more. They were just babies, and she loved them dearly. Just to have them near was enough for her, was the most help they could have offered anyway. She wasn't the only one who'd lost someone she cared for very much, and if she thought on it too much, she realised that they'd lost much more than she had. She'd had years. And Aretha hadn't even met her father.

If she was going to cry for someone, it would be for them, and then they'd be missing out on her love too, stolen away by her tears.

So she silently helped to put up decorations for the upcoming festivities. Halloween was only a few days away now. The excitement of the children was palpable, a living thing all of its own, but their excitement, the dreams that raced ahead of them unheeded, without wary, didn't upset her tonight. She would let them have their youthfulness. Wasn't that was childhood was for, after all? For finding and testing dreams; when no one could deride you if you fell and grazed a knee, bruised an elbow; when you could brush yourself down and get back up and start again, because tomorrow was another day, another chance to find what you were looking for, and the only motivation, the only fuel, you really ever needed was life itself! When the whole of life, and all of its crazy, unknowable, fantastical mysteries were your companions, each of them your very good friends.

As she hung decorations, she tried not to think or agonise over how she'd changed over the years, how the universe and its infinite mysteries had become less than a friend, how she'd found her motivation, her inspiration and reason for being, in much smaller, simpler ways which were, in truth, no smaller or simpler at all, though widely known and called by name. She tried not to think how her field of reference had shrunk to include mostly only other human beings, her own kind, and, on a larger scale, communities, cities, societies, the shared hopes and dreams, so many causes. She was now officially 'human', she'd found her label, her niche in this world, and was now constrained by all of its complexities as much as freed by them.

She'd found the One. The one who was going to be there for her, when she couldn't be there for herself, when confusion took over and she needed an anchor in the storm, when she needed to come home again, to come back to herself, to feel comfortable in her skin. She had found that person, and then she'd lost him and she was lost again, lost in the great, wild universe, but she was no longer a child, no longer in awe and wonder of it all. She was cold, afraid. Alone.

She couldn't just go back, untread every step she'd ever taken and, when she came to the end, smile and train her gaze eagerly forward, anticipating, seeing none of the hurt because nobody wanted to expect hurt and pain, they wanted happiness and laughter.

There was happiness and laughter still, she knew this, but she wasn't willing to let go just yet, to render everything that had gone before nothing more than a stepping stone to something better, something more worthy of her time, her regard and love.

Her past had not been perfect, but it had been hers, still was hers. It had taught her how to love and how to hurt, and even when it was painful to revisit those old memories sometimes she could brave the pain and sadness because there was happiness, too, and in that happiness, there was hope. Hope, not dead, just lost. The past told her, whispered softly, that this pain was normal, was as it should be, because if she could feel pain, she could feel joy, if pain existed still, somewhere out there, temporarily out of reach, happiness wasn't far away.

She saw that happiness each day when she looked upon her children. Yes, there was happiness and love. In some strange, cosmic twist of fate, happiness and goodness existed side by side with all of the bad things too, but that was okay. She would not have dared to step outside, to come out of herself again, if she had not understood this. She held hope quietly, made no big fuss of it. It wasn't warm, it didn't burn brightly with a passion, but it was there. She could still feel it, if she held it close to her heart and put the loudness of her world to bed, if she stilled her thoughts and calmed her madly beating heart. There was hope there, but she wasn't sure they knew each other so well anymore, and it was partly for that reason that she waited, that she allowed herself this silence, this grief.

She needed to be sure she could trust such hope, before she took her great leap. The universe was great and wild and dangerous. She needed to know she could take the broken bones if she fell, or the ethereal lightness if she flew. She didn't know that she did want to fly ever again, because it would mean flying away from the one she'd once needed more than anything, who'd given her the courage to find true meaning in her own life, to find her soul. Before she'd loved that deeply, she'd imagined she knew these things, she'd dreamed she felt it all and understood, and then reality had struck and it had taken her breath away, for just a moment, before she'd found her footing again: The truth was, she wasn't alone in the universe, a singular force whose actions were co-ordinated for herself, but for others, too, for the good, too. She could co-operate, could work together with all of those other forces. She wasn't invincible, she could break, but she could do so much more too. She could take the hand offered to her and live. _She_ could mean something to the world, which had meant so much to her for so long. She could embrace the mysteries she'd learnt to live with, to dodge if they hurt too much, because there was good in them too, and suddenly she saw it now. She saw the good in the journey; the journey was what was important, not the end. She no longer need rush to greet the end, because it was the journey she wanted most of all, the joys and pains, the "truth", no longer the "fantasy", no longer the youthful dream.

She wanted no spoils, she just wanted to walk the path alongside the one she loved, and if there were victories and treasures along the way, it was truly a wonderful thing. And if she worked hard for these things and they eventually came to be, they were deserved and they could make her happy, but without her love, they would not have meant the same thing. Her true treasure was her heart, her soul, which her love gave to her when she took a chance, when she'd first whispered, "Show me. Show me what is means to live," and then she knew it had been there all along, just waiting to be coaxed out into the open. She was not merely lovable, but capable of giving love too.

Since then, since she'd lost the one she'd loved for so long, much of her meaning had slipped away, but not all of it. So here she was, putting up decorations, listening to all of these children, remembering that she had once been just like them, that she had tread that path too... and could again.

It was a comfort to be surrounded by such sense of community. Emily was glad Jarod had the chance to catch up with people he'd helped out, people he'd have liked to get to know better if only he'd had the chance, if only the Centre hadn't been after him. He had that chance now; the Centre could look, but they couldn't touch. Emily really was happy, in a strange, obscure way, but she started to cry when she finally dug out the candles from in amongst the mass of jumble crowding up the attic.

She remembered Jarod's words from yesterday. They would have a house like this, he'd said. They would have a community to call their own; neighbours! She had been happy for him, a little overjoyed. She had been so caught up in imagining his hard-earned, long-withheld happiness that she hadn't even considered what her own feelings might be. A house, mortgage repayments. A job. The kids off to school. All of these normal things. Mundane, but for those who had never really had the chance to experience them, and for whom they were sometimes simply wonderful. The candles flickering inside their funny-shaped, much bigger, oranger hideaways. Saying 'hi' anyway, 'cause it was okay, the wind couldn't blow them out when they were together with their pumpkin, inside their funny new homes.

Emily missed her funny old home, didn't want a new home. Didn't even want to look at new homes, because they all reminded her of the home she'd left behind, the home she'd loved so well before it had been knocked down. She didn't want another home, she only wanted _her_ home. Her one true home. She'd only ever wanted one; she'd never been greedy. She only wanted one.

She was crying when Jarod found her, but she didn't brush her tears aside and pretend everything was peachy, because she was sad; she was happy and sad, at the same time. "They'll be happy tears someday," she whispered, and finally a smile found her lips. Yes, she was happier now, with her brother here beside her.

She picked his hand up, held it in her own. Smiled at him. "Guess what?"

"What?"

She let go of his hand and turned around, picking up the box with the candles in it. She showed it to him. There were just two candles. "We're out of candles!"

He frowned, secret, rushing thoughts crinkling his brow.

Emily laughed, thinking how much she loved her funny, frowney brother, who liked to worry so much when it came to the happiness of others. "At least they're together," she said, with a grin. Yep, they could still get up to a lot of trouble, these two candles, pass out a treasure trove of cheeky winks amongst them.

Jarod sighed heavily, taking the box from her. "We'll buy some more." He crossed his fingers. "Here's hoping they won't have sold out just when we pull up; eager shoppers, us."

Emily giggled, and crossed her own fingers. "Here's hoping the candy hasn't sold out," she added, amusement brightening her eyes.

Jarod shot her a cautious look, frown stubbornly in place. "Don't say that."

She put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud.

"I'd be very hurt if they had," Jarod admitted, with the sad eyes and all. He smiled abruptly, and they left the attic laughing happily together.

* * *

When she lay down to sleep at last, Emily didn't try to hold back her tears. In a way, she needed this pain. She needed to know she was still alive, and she would still be alive in the morning. She wouldn't just drift away into the darkness of the night. She was a solider and no matter the obstacles that came to block her path, she would forge on. She would go on. And one day, she would come home; one day, the war would end and the sun would shine again.

She just let herself cry desperately. It didn't matter to her if she cried every night for the rest of her life, if she never felt that ray of special sunshine again in this life, as long as she didn't break down in front of others. This pain was hers, and if it wasn't hurting others, then she supposed she should be allowed to keep it. Wasn't it her choice?

She would wait however long it took. She would not be unhappy her whole life, but this pain would stay. Perhaps, in time, it would become something else. Perhaps one day her pain would become her joy, would remind her she was loved. Jarod would argue all it really meant was that she had loved, that it didn't mean she'd been loved in return, but for her, it had been love. For her, it would always be true love.

* * *

When they lit the candles at last, Emily didn't have to stopper up her tears. She was happy.

She sat on the step with her new sneakers and waited for the kids to come by asking for candy. It was Halloween and the night was just beginning and so full of possibilities. It was a wide, wide universe and good things happened every day.

Jarod sat down beside her. "Waiting for someone?"

She smiled. "Maybe."

Jarod touched her arm. "Try not to be too hurt if he doesn't show," he said, offering her a cupcake she'd helped Erica prepare for the oven earlier in the day.

Taking the cupcake, she thought proudly of Hubertus helping to put the sweets on top of the cupcakes for decoration, along with Erica and Beau's three children. "I'm all right, Jarod," she said softly.

He frowned, peering at her intently for a moment. "Looks to be that way, but I'm sceptical by nature," he replied, perhaps a little teasingly.

She punched him in the arm gently.

"If you need me, I'll be here. Around someplace." He stood up, pausing to touch her shoulder briefly and meet her eyes.

She smiled at him and turned her head to gaze out across the yard, listening as he climbed back up the steps and disappeared inside the house, closing the front door after him. Only after he'd gone did she whisper quietly, "Thank you, big brother."


End file.
